


Expanding Horizons

by KayleeArafinwiel



Series: Into The West - NaQua2020 & Beyond [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: The adventures in Aman continue, as Oropher finds his place in the Uttermost West, aided by Tuor, Idril, and others who came before.The Lonely Isle is waiting...
Series: Into The West - NaQua2020 & Beyond [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021737
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Elder Luthavar of Greenwood, mentioned in chapter one, is one of mine and AfricanDaisy's recurring OCs. He is the grandson of our OC Ravondir (who is Oropher's great-grandfather), and the twin brother of Morfindir, who died when they were young enough that Luthavar (or Lutha) doesn't remember him.

"Daeradar Ravondir."

Ravondir smiled, giving Oropher a kinsman's kiss in greeting. "Oropher," he murmured. "It gives me great pleasure to see you well." Lúcëarmo let out a disgruntled cry at being suddenly ignored, and Ravondir absently stroked the fish hawk's head, He passed the bird to his assistant, a young ellon who was so like to Oropher's beloved cousin, Elder Luthavar that Oropher blinked in surprise.

"Luthavar?" he ventured, feeling suddenly disoriented.

The ellon shook his head. "Nay, Highness. My name is Morfindir." He bowed his head to Oropher. "I have the honour to be Lord Ravondir's apprentice." He gave Oropher a searching look. "I am told my twin brother and I had different fates."

Twin brother...ah. Oropher had forgotten, assuming he had ever known. But he nodded. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private?" he hazarded.

"Then let us take luncheon at the Leaping Dolphin," Ravondir interjected. "Morfindir, stay here and calm Lúcëarmo, but at the next bell join us there." 

"Yes, Master," Morfindir said, for the lord was speaking not as his daeradar but as the Bird-Master and he knew it.

The inn was on the plaza, so it was a matter of crossing the square to reach it, and at Ravondir's word they were shown to a private parlour. When Morfindir joined them a quarter of an hour later, they all settled in with goblets of Tirion white wine, fresh crusty bread, and a seafood medley in garlic butter sauce, to be followed by hollowed out rolls brimful of fish stew. 

The conversation was light at first, as the elves got acquainted (or reacquainted), and Oropher found himself lulled by the gentle flow of words. He was drifting, not really paying attention, as he pried open an oyster and something rolled out. The gentle thud of it striking his trencher made Oropher sit up and take notice.

"A pearl," Morfindir said approvingly. "That is good luck, Highness. And it seems to be good luck that has led me to you, for you can tell me of my father and brother, if you will."

"I always wanted to be a bard," Oropher murmured under his breath, eliciting laughter even from Ravondir, who knew that wasn't true. 

"Then perhaps you should try joining the Guild," Lisselindo offered, only half jesting. Smiling, Oropher rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.

"Let me see what I can tell you of Luthavar, and Baralin, then, Morfindir..." With eyes half-closed, he did his best to recall everything he could.


	2. Anarien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Anarien arrives with...reinforcements.

Tales of Baralin's time as a Prince of Harad, and Luthavar's duties as an Elder of Greenwood were recalled, and Morfindir listened raptly, drinking in the information. As the wine and stories flowed, the basket of seafood was emptied, and when the fish stew in bread bowls was brought to replace it the conversation broke off.

The serving ellith were followed by another elleth. Her dark grey eyes were ringed by thick lashes, filled with solemn joy as her gaze landed on him. Her dark hair, in a single thick plait twined with gold, spilled over her shoulder. She was garbed in light grey watered silk slit to the hips to reveal a white woolen undergown. The grey skirt rippled as she walked, putting Oropher in mind of a stone tossed into still water.

The slits were trimmed with grey squirrel fur, and the white undergown embroidered with golden scrollwork that matched the golden silk slippers she wore. Morfindir rose when he saw her, offering her his chair, but she had a chair brought to sit next to him and smiled. 

"We will need four more chairs, for the Lord Eärendil, the Lady Elwing, the Lord Tuor and the Lady Idril," she informed the serving elleth, who hurried to obey. 

Oropher's eyebrows rose. "Eärendil? Here? Now?" He intercepted a look from Ravondir, and sighed. "My apologies, Lady..."

"Anarien," the Reborn Noldo replied quietly. "Anarien Edrahiliel, hervess Baralin Ravondirion."

Of course. Her eyes were near identical to her twin sons'. He ought to have known. Nodding, he turned his attention back to his fish stew, pondering his...aunt? Great-aunt. She looked too young and merry to be a great-aunt, he thought irreverently, and in fact she was a great-grand aunt as Eluthril's existence attested, but he felt too young to be a daerada.


	3. The Coming of the Storm

Anarien was quickly followed in by Tuor, Idril, Eärendil and Elwing. The four of them had alarmed expressions, and Ravondir rose, striding over to speak to Elwing as chairs were brought.

After a hurried conversation, Ravondir turned grimly to the others. "There will be another storm," he said succinctly.

"When?" Oropher asked, dread rising as Idril wrapped protective arms around Tuor, who looked like he might be ill.

"Now," the Mariner said quietly, checking on his parents before ensuring the door was barred. "We are in an inner room, and have high ground here, though not so high as Olwe's palace. Still, this will not be pleasant for the city."

Before he had finished speaking, the walls began to tremble. Oropher closed his eyes, cringing, and in a moment he was wrapped in Ravondir's arms. The older Reborn soothed his great-grandson as outside, the storm raged.


	4. Chapter 4

"In times like these, all one can do is enjoy the rain."

The words jolted Oropher out of his stupor. "What?" he whispered, eyes widening.

Ravondir stroked Oropher's hair gently. "Hush, elfling," he chided. "Just breathe, and listen. All is well and all shall be well. 'Tis a storm, to be sure, but we can enjoy the rain while it lasts."

"Naneth used to say that," Oropher murmured, and Ravondir smiled.

"She still does, you know."

Oropher stirred. "Naneth...and Adar...are they...where are they?"

Ravondir continued stroking Oropher's hair comfortingly. "At the moment, in Doriath 'Wain, I believe, unless they have had occasion to travel."


	5. Chapter 5

"Doriath 'Wain?" Oropher murmured.

"On Tol Eressea," Earendil spoke up. "I could see you there ere long, once this storm has passed."

"Or I, if my ship is well," Eluthril added. "Though I would fain see to the harbour first. I have not shown you there yet, or to my ship, and now we shall not see her in her best light."

"I would be glad to see her, no matter what she looks like, iel-nin," Oropher assured Eluthril. "I would be glad to see the harbour as well, whatever has befallen it."

So when luncheon was finished and the storm over, the group set out for the harbour by mutual agreement. Tuor, however, was shrouded in a hooded cloak, much to Oropher's surprise.

"Lord Tuor?"

The Adan-turned-Elda gave Oropher a brittle smile. "Talk less," he said succinctly, and it sounded like a quote to Oropher. 

"Smile more?" Idril jested lightly, claiming her husband's lips in a brief kiss.

"Mmm. One mustn't upset the sensibilities of the old guard," Tuor murmured. "Conceal who I am for them." 

"Do not give in to hot anger. Fools who run their mouths off wind up--" Idril stopped.

"Or wishing they were, I deem," Tuor snorted. "Especially when faced with you. Well, never mind."

The tide had risen and the celmaveni were not sailing at this time, so the Elves left the inn by one of the raised pathways, Eluthril accepting a sack from a passing guardsman and beginning to collect debris as they walked the pathways and bridges. Without being asked, Oropher aided her, and by the time they reached the harbour of Alqualonde the sack was quite full. 

As they passed under the strings of gold-coloured lamps that illuminated the harbour at night, Oropher looked about with a mingling of interest and sorrow. Many ships there were; swanships, of course, most of them, and two were beached. One of these was lying on her side, the swan's head snapped off of the prow. 

Eluthril looked stricken for a moment, but she forced herself to regain her composure as they approached the harbourmaster.

"Master Aearondir," Eluthril said, saluting the ancient elf. Oropher gave a start.

"Aearondir?"

The ellon favoured Oropher with a smile. Neldiel's paternal grandfather beheld his great-grandson with approval, exchanging looks with Ravondir, as Oropher straightened. 

"What can we do for you...Daeradar?" 

"A fair question," Aearondir mused. "There is the clean-up of course, but I think my people have that well in hand and I would not set you to it with no knowledge of what you are doing."

"I want to help. Sir," Oropher added belatedly, "Please."

"Then go and see to Eluthril's Gaerondil elfling," Aearondir said. "Eluthril can take you. The rest of us know what to do here."

"Yes, sir," Oropher said with a sigh.

"Don't you want to see her, Ada?" Eluthril asked, as she led him away across the white, gem-strewn strands. "You did say you wished to."

"Of course, iel-nin," Oropher recovered himself and nodded as they headed down to the dock where the proud swanship floated, seemingly having taken minimal damage.


	6. Chapter 6

Oropher found himself farewelling Olwë for the nonce, and having his clothing and meagre possessions brought to a cabin aboard the Gaerondil once she had been declared seaworthy. "For," Eluthril had said, "by your leave, Uncle, I must depart that we not be late for the Feast of Eruhantalë in Avallónë."

"Go then with my blessing and that of the Belain, child," Olwë said, and Lirillë, his queen, was quick to agree. She it was who accompanied them to the dock and lay a bough of oiolairë upon the swan's head.

"This was a custom among the mariners of Númenor," Oropher observed, and the Lindatári nodded,

"So I have heard. The blessing was taught to us by the Lady; no doubt she did the same for the Atani."

"The Lady is gracious, Aunt," Eluthril said. "May she see this sign and keep her husband in check."

"May she indeed," Lirillë agreed, kissing Eluthril and Oropher in farewell. "A joyous Eruhantalë to you, my children."

Oropher and Eluthril returned her kisses, and when the Queen had left, they settled in aboard ship. Accompanying them were Earendil, Elwing, Aearandir, Erellont, and Falathar, though not Tuor and Idril, who were to remove to the Lady Nienna's demesne.

As Oropher settled into his cabin, he heard a knock at the door.

"May I enter, Your Highness?"

The voice was unfamiliar. Oropher sat up.

"Enter, if you will."

The ellon who entered was silver-haired and turquoise-eyed, with a merry look about him. His linen shirt was covered over with a woollen tunic of royal blue, and leggings to match. His boots and jerkin were made of leather dyed black, tooled with silver symbols of the Lindaran and Alqualondë. A circlet of silver and pearls crowning his head was the only giveaway he was no minor lordling or wealthy sailor.

Oropher's gaze took in the young ellon's appearance and he drew a conclusion quickly. "Falmaron."

"I have that honour," Falmaron replied cheerily. "And you are Oropher, my beloved's adar. Welcome aboard, Adar Oropher. I trust you will find our Gaerondil to your liking."

"I like her very much, so far," Oropher assured Falmaron, for they had only cast off a short while ago. "I am afraid I may be seasick if I go on deck, however," he added with a slight grimace. "I feel uneasy enough here in my cabin."

"Oh, that will never do." Falmaron sat beside Oropher, drawing a small bag from the pocket of his jerkin. It contained small round balls, a pale golden colour, rolled in sugar. The sweets were slightly squishy to the touch, and at Falmaron's urging, Oropher took one. The explosion of sweet and spice all at once in his mouth was surprising, but not wholly unpleasant, and the sensation steadied him, soothing his stomach. 

"My thanks, Falmaron," Oropher murmured gratefully. The younger ellon smiled and nodded. 

"Of course, Adar Oropher. Every sailor knows to carry ginger sweets. The Sea can do odd things to one not used to its ways."

Falmaron stayed with Oropher for a time, and they traded tales, until Oropher felt certain enough of his footing to venture from his cabin. 

Near the prow, Eluthril stood, her hair blowing behind her in the wind, and Falmaron went to kiss his wife thoroughly. He lifted her up and set her on the railing, and laughing, she clasped her arms around his neck. 

"Have you behaved well while I was away, melethril? Or have you been corrupting your adar? Perhaps I should drop you in the water," Falmaron threatened, though his eyes sparkled with mirth.

Eluthril laughed, unafraid. "I have behaved perfectly well, which Adar can attest to," she promised. "He even helped me settle a riot at the bank."

"This I have to hear." Lifting Eluthril up, Falmaron swung her around and placed her back on her feet with Oropher watching. 

Eluthril rolled her eyes. "Do not mind Falmaron, Adar. He's always like this."

Oropher raised an eyebrow. "Come here, ion nin," he said calmly.

Though Oropher had spoken without a touch of anger, Falmaron paled as he approached. "Sir."

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear, my son," Oropher said, meeting Falmaron's eyes. "If I ever see you threaten my daughter again..."

Falmaron gave a nod, swallowing. "Yes sir?"

"I will have to throw you in after her," Oropher finished, and laughed at Falmaron's expression. 

Falmaron blushed rosily.

"You are wicked, Ada," Eluthril said chidingly, though she couldn't help laughing, too. "My poor beloved. He believed you."

"I am sorry, iel-nin, ion-nin." Oropher said. His breath caught then, and he stared at Falmaron.

"Adar Oropher?" Falmaron ventured, but it was as though Oropher's voice had abandoned him. He shook his head in denial, and backed up a few steps, stumbling on the deck. 

Eärendil caught Oropher, and Eluthril nodded her thanks. She snapped her fingers sharply in front of Oropher's eyes.

"Adar!"

When that got no response, she slapped his cheek gently, and then waved her hand in front of him.

No response.

"Should I turn her around, melethril?" Falmaron asked.

"No. I'll deal with this, melethron nin; just see she doesn't stray," Eluthril responded, assisting Earendil to carry Oropher back to his cabin and lay him on his bed. The Peredhel removed Oropher's boots and outer clothing, wrapping him in warm blankets, while Eluthril fetched a lavender water-soaked cloth to lave Oropher's brow. 

"Adar, come back," she whispered.

Eventually, Oropher stirred, and Eluthril let out a sigh of relief, but Earendil shook his head to warn her against speaking. He addressed Oropher instead.

"Oropher?"

"What..." Oropher whispered hoarsely. Eluthril fetched a cup of tea for Oropher to sip, and he spoke when he was finished. "What happened?"

"Shock, I think," Earendil replied. "Do you remember anything?"

"I don't...Thranduil, I...Thranduil," Oropher said quietly. 

"Thranduil isn't here, Adar," Eluthril said gently. "You were speaking to Falmaron."

"Falmaron...oh, yes," Oropher replied. "He just reminded me...when I called him ion nin, I...why did I not react this way to you?" he asked helplessly.

"If I might venture a guess, Oropher," Earendil suggested, and Oropher nodded slowly, wincing.

"Of course."

"You had no daughters of your house to raise ere your death, for they were Mandos-born," Earendil said gently. "But you had, and have a son, who you love dearly. Your other sons were lost to you, and you shall have them again, but you had called no other ion nin, I am sure, but Thranduil, until now."

Oropher nodded when the Mariner had said his piece. "Yes," he agreed quietly. "That sounds right."


	7. Chapter 7

When the Gaerondil had crossed the Bay of Eldamar, she came into port at Tol Eressëa, not in Avallónë as Oropher had expected from the sailors' talk of it, but in Tavrobel.

"Avallónë," Falmaron explained, "is a larger port, but further from Aman. Tavrobel is easier to sail to." 

Oropher nodded to this. He cared little which port they came ashore in, so long as they did in fact come ashore in one piece.

At last, Gaerondil was secured at the dock, and the gangplank was lowered, the Elves disembarking. Amongst the throng, a single elleth stood alone, gowned in sombre grey. The other elves of Tavrobel, gaily dressed in chiefly autumnal colours, were giving her a wide berth. She did not seem unduly concerned or angered by their behaviour; merely resigned.

She approached the ship as Oropher disembarked, and he got a good look at her for the first time. Her hair, braided back out of her face with leather strings, was an unusual russet brown colour, and her face ruddy; Her eyes were a calm grey, with an ancient light that bespoke of knowledge of the Two Trees. Her only adornment was a silver necklace with settings for seven common opals and one pink opal, though the pink opal in its star-shaped setting had been struck with something - perhaps a hammer - and cracked. Of the common opals, six stones had been removed. Only one yet remained.

Oropher had the sudden impression that this elleth, unassuming as she was, would not be someone to cross. Something of her manner reminded him of his Aunt Baraves, though he could not strictly say why.

"Greetings, my lords and ladies," she said, her voice deep but not masculine, and she offered them a brief curtsey.

"Greetings, Aunt," Eluthril replied, offering the elleth a kiss on the cheek. Aunt? Oropher thought, then reminded himself it could just be court manners. And yet there was something of Baraves in her, he was almost certain of it...

She returned Eluthril's kiss and gave Eärendil and Elwing a brittle smile before moving her gaze to take in the group as a whole. "Herunyar a herinyar , alatulya Tavrossenna."

"We thank thee for thy welcome, Aunt," Eluthril replied, and it was plain she had established herself as in charge of the party, despite being one of the youngest present. It made sense, Oropher supposed, since she and Falmaron sailed to the island so often.  
The greeting was, however, all the strange elleth said to them, not even giving her name before turning and beckoning them to follow. They walked into town, and Oropher noticed that where Alqualonde's architecture was equally of wood and stone, Tavrobel's was almost entirely wood. That made sense of the name, he supposed. The buildings were beautiful, for all that there was little variety in their structure; they were painted many bright colours, and festooned with wreaths of autumn leaves and grasses. 

"We will have time to explore Tavrobel later, Adar," Eluthril promised in a low voice, for their guide seemed intent on leading them straight through the town with no distractions.  
"Who is this mysterious aunt of yours, Cousin?" Elwing asked Eluthril softly as Oropher listened.

Eluthril started, looking surprised. "Have you not met her?"

Elwing shook her head. "Oh, I have been to the island before, but she seems rather distinctive. I am sure I would remember her."

"Perhaps, then, she was trying to avoid you," Eluthril mused. "I would have thought her identity was plainly obvious."

Elwing shrugged helplessly. "I see she is no Sinda, and surely of Aman as she has beheld the Two Trees."

"You might say that." Eluthril chuckled wryly. "Her niece is a Sinda, though. Well, half."

"What?" Elwing blinked. 

"Oh, her brother wed one of the Sindar...er, Nelyai, I suppose," Eluthril gestured vaguely. "Mind you, her niece died in Doriath. She didn't know any of this until after she was Reborn. Lord Námo told her all about it."

"All right..." Elwing raised an eyebrow as their guide led them silently on. They reached a field on the outskirts of Tavrobel where a pavilion stood, with a picnic spread underneath it. The feast was guarded by four Maiar, who greeted the Elves with grave respect when they approached.

"Ah, right on time," one of them said ingenuously after that. "Well, Children, here is your Eruhantale feast, kept as your hostess wished it. May you have joy of it, and each other." 

"Thank you," Oropher said quietly. When the Maiar were gone, he turned to the elleth.

"Who are you, my lady?" he asked, keeping his voice low but clearly desperate for an answer. "Can you not speak?" Clearly she could, he supposed, but maybe she could not speak now. He didn't know what to think.

"I am the Keeper of the Tower of Avallónë," she replied, focusing her eyes on his, intent as steel, hard as flint. "I am motherless, brotherless, deserted by my husband and sons. I am a queen without a king, bereaved and alone, stripped of hearth and home. What have I to be grateful to Eru for?" The words spilled forth as though she had not intended to speak them, but once she had begun speaking she could not stop. "I am scorned by my people, for the madness of my family has stained the history of Arda, and the one jewel I have left to me lingers across the Sea."

She wrapped her hand around the one remaining intact opal, and Oropher reeled in shock.

"Oh," was all he could think of to say, and dropped his gaze.

"I should have thrown myself from the Tower when I had the chance," she added bitterly.

Elwing looked up. "Don't do it, Aunt Nerdanel," she said quietly. "They don't like it when you do that."

Nerdanel, hearing her name spoken in a gentle manner for the first time in she knew not how long, started. "Aunt, you call me, from courtesy I suppose? Eru knows I have been afforded little enough of that since the Darkening."

"From truth," Elwing said reasonably. "Am I not the wife of Earendil, grandson of Turgon, your nephew?"

"Half nephew," Nerdanel murmured, but nodded nonetheless. "I suppose that is fair."

"Moreover, I am the daughter of Dior, grandson of Elwe, who was as a brother to Finwe," Elwing added, "and of course Olwe is my uncle indeed, whose daughter wedded your husband's brother...half brother," she added.

"I see," Nerdanel agreed. "Then, daughter of Dior, thou art the keeper of my husband's Silmaril."

"My family gave its stewardship unto my husband," Elwing replied, "and then the Valar sanctioned it. But now that there is a new sign for the Children, I am sure Earendil would not mind returning it...if so you desire."

Nerdanel paused, then shook her head. "Nay, I will not dispute the Valar in this."

"You have naught to thank Eru for, you say," Oropher interrupted, and Nerdanel looked at him. "Might I suggest you begin with the very fact you yet live, and that surely your family will be returned to you the sooner you are able to abandon the bitterness in your heart."

"My bitterness?" Nerdanel stared. "All of Elvenkind hate my husband and sons. Their crimes were beyond forgiveness. What hope have I of them returning to me, bitter or no?"

Oropher shook his head. "Not all," he said quietly. "We who have passed through Mandos have a different perspective on such things."

"You have family to enjoy Eruhantale with," Elwing affirmed. "Whether you like it or not," Earendil added, and Eluthril laughed at the byplay.

"Just accept it, Aunt Nerdanel. Do not let bitterness fester, it will poison you," Eluthril said quietly. "Enjoy this meal with us and let us have peace with one another."

Slowly, Nerdanel gave a nod.

"Very well, children. Let us eat the meal placed before us, and have joy of one another in the doing."

Tension ebbed away from the other Elves in hearing that, and as Nerdanel herself spoke the blessing over the food, Oropher felt that she might actually mean it.


	8. Chapter 8

After the Eruhantalë feast, and at Falmaron's urging, Nerdanel led them back into Tavrobel. They walked along the cobbled main street, looking about at the wooden houses on each side. Most of the homes on this street were actually shops, with the dwelling of the owners above, and an emblem above or on each door indicating what the shop sold.

Falmaron stopped them at a maritime shop that sold supplies for ships. "For," he pointed out, "the storm damaged several ships, and goods will be needed for repairs, perhaps more than our people have to hand. Anatar will surely appreciate it if we come home with some extras." 

"Let the ships lie," Nerdanel said bitterly.

"An unwise attitude to take, my lady," Falmaron said calmly. "For we must needs return home, whether you accompany us or no."

"Accompany..." Nerdanel bit down on a curse as they entered the shop together. "My life is here now," she insisted, her eyes narrowing.

"She doesn't seem to like it here very much, does she, Eluthril?" Oropher observed quietly. Eluthril tried not to laugh.

"No, I don't think so, Ada." She gave Oropher a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "But you have handled Lady Nerdanel very well for a beginner," she added quietly, once they were out of the lady's hearing.

Oropher smiled a little, glad to have handled himself well. He was still new to Amanian standards, and accepted Eluthril knew better than he. "Thank you, iel-nin. I have dealt with disagreeable Noldor before, though not...for some time. I had hoped that perhaps..."

Eluthril gave Oropher a quick hug and led him down an aisle filled with bundles of sailcloth in various colours, patterns and weaves. She pointed out one of glittering silver, and Oropher picked the bolt up, marveling at the feel of it in his hands.

"This is a finer cloth than I would have expected for sails...not that I know much about ships," he admitted with a laugh. "And yet...I know this weave." He frowned. "It isn't Amanian at all, is it?"

"Doriathrin, actually," Eluthril replied, cocking her head slightly. "I believe you know the lady responsible for teaching the nathron this craft."

Oropher's eyes widened. "Oh...erm..." He grimaced. "I have forgotten her name, but she was a pupil of Aunt Melian," he said. "I have not reclaimed all my memories yet, only most of them."

"That is the way of things," Eluthril agreed. "Yet you would be mistaken, for you are thinking of the spinner, not the weaver. This weave of sailcloth was originated by Melian herself. The last time you saw a bolt of it, I believe it was set to a different purpose."

Oropher blinked. "Was it?"

Eluthril nodded. "Vingilot. The original, I mean." 

Her sails he wove of silver fair, a stray thought caught in his mind, and he remembered Felith - and Idril - patiently teaching the half-elven boy the weaving of cloth. 

"Earendil wove this," Oropher concluded, looking at Eluthril, and she smiled. 

"He has had to have some occupation to ease his boredom since Tancol was created," she said with a laugh. "Earendil Nathron, with the finest teacher he could have had aside from Melian herself."

"Your naneth." Oropher's serene mask slipped, and he clutched the silver sailcloth in his hands. "I..."

"Shhh, I know, Ada. I know." Eluthril wrapped Oropher in her embrace. "I have you, you are safe. Breathe. There is no shame in your tears, let them go."

The mask shattered, and Oropher wept in Eluthril's arms.

"Is he all right?"

The new voice startled Oropher, and he gasped, pulling back as one who was clearly a Noldo came into view. He was dressed as a noble, but the look on his face was not a haughty one. He evinced concern for the Sinda before him. 

"I..." Oropher fought for calm. "I am well, thank you."

The Noldo nodded, clearly not believing him but unwilling to press. "Welcome to Tavrobel, lord," he said solicitously. "My name is Artelemnar Ringilion, once of Tirion."

"I am Oropher Celepharnion, once Aran of Eryn Galen-i-Dhaer," Oropher replied. 

"Aran Oropher." Artelemnar bowed his head slightly in respect. "I am called Celepharn by my Reborn friends, though you may of course call me Artelemnar if you wish. Eryn Galen must have been founded after I died, for I know it not, yet we are near in age, I deem," he added. "From where did you come originally?"

"Lestanórë," Oropher said quietly.

Artelemnar paled. "I...I see." He exhaled slowly. "I was an elfling when we left Tirion, though my atar, Ringil, was high in the counsels of our lord."

Oropher nodded, letting Eluthril guide him as they carried the sailcloth to the front to purchase it. As they passed through the aisles on the way, Eluthril quietly added a small sack of ginger sweets, another of ginger biscuits, and a length of hithlain to her purchase. Finally, when they and Artelemnar were standing outside the shop, the Noldorin lord carrying a new fishing net, Oropher plucked up the courage to ask, "Which lord?"

Artelemnar exhaled slowly, dropping his gaze. "Turcafinwë. I died taking a blow meant for him, though I am told he died soon after."

"I am truly sorry to hear that," Oropher said quietly.

Artelemnar looked up, eyes wide. "But my lord and his brothers slew your people."

"They did," Oropher agreed, taking a steadying breath. "As did many, if not all, who followed them."

"I raised sword against none who did not offer violence first," Artelemnar said quietly. "My purpose was to defend my lord, nothing more."

"That is a liegeman's duty, whosoever that liege lord be," Oropher replied. "I regret that your lord placed you in such a position, Artelemnar Ringilion. Did Lord Namo not say to us that all is forgiven, all debts are paid?"

Artelemnar nodded. "He did."

"Then how can I say any less?" Oropher replied. 

Artelemnar offered Oropher a grateful smile. "I thank you for your forgiveness, Aran Oropher. I regret what has passed between our people and would change it for the future."

"Let it be so."

Oropher clasped arms with the Noldo, and only looked round as he heard a shocked gasp.

It was Nerdanel.

"You...you forgive one such as he?"

"I do, and I thank Eru that I have met him that I may do so," Oropher said firmly. Nerdanel stared openly.

"But...how?"

"We Reborn are not the same as we were when we died," Oropher said quietly. "Call it a second chance at the gift of Life. If Eru and the Valar have seen fit to forgive him, how dare anyone else do any less, Aunt Nerdanel?"

Nerdanel looked thoughtful. "I suppose..." she conceded. "You have given me much to think on...Nephew."

Artelemnar went to kneel before Nerdanel. "My lady, I regret my lord's desertion of you in Tirion," he said quietly. "Is there anything I may do to make up for it?"

"Get up," Nerdanel said briskly. "Then you may escort me back to Avallónë, for I wish not to linger in Tavrobel. Eluthril, Falmaron, I believe someone awaits you at the Blue Dolphin."

Eluthril nodded. "I can lead our party there, Aunt. I wish you a safe journey." If she felt offended that their hostess had abandoned them, she gave no sign. One learned to expect such things, with Nerdanel. 

Besides, the Blue Dolphin awaited.


	9. Chapter 9

Eluthril, Falmaron, and Oropher parted with Earendil and Elwing - "we have to return to the ship with our goods, so we will wait for you there," Elwing had said, and Eluthril assented. "Besides, it did not sound as though we rated an invite for whatever Lady Nerdanel's surprise is," Earendil joked wryly.

"Very well, but I want to know more about this sailcloth later," Oropher said, placing the silver bundle in the Mariner's arms. He blushed and nodded. 

"Yes, Cousin, I will tell you all, I promise." 

Elwing took the other purchases from Eluthril and Falmaron, and thus unburdened, the three made their way to the Blue Dolphin.

Like the other buildings of Tavrobel, it was built of wood. It had a stableyard surrounded by a low wall, half elf-high, of smooth stones set together. Working in the stableyard, they encountered an ellon, younger than Eluthril and Falmaron, with dark silver hair and piercing green eyes. He wore livery over his garments, a blue silk tabard with a winged moon emblem on it, but he also wore a thin circlet of gold set with a single green beryl. No commoner would wear such a thing, Oropher thought, pausing to look at the ellon.

The ellon looked up at Oropher, green eyes meeting green, and went absolutely still. He dropped the brush he'd been using on the horse, and darted inside.

"That was unexpected," Oropher remarked, blinking.

"That was rude," Eluthril huffed, eyes narrowing. "That poor horse. Falmaron, my love, would you finish up for him, I have an annoying ellon to catch."

Snorting in amusement, Falmaron nodded. "I live to serve, my lady." Sweeping a bow to Eluthril, he went to soothe the horse and finish brushing it as Eluthril stalked into the inn.

Still slightly bewildered by the encounter, Oropher hesitated, then followed his daughter. As he did so, he looked around.

The common room of the inn was painted white, dark beams spaced evenly along the walls. The tables were scattered throughout the room, some seating as few as two, some as many as twelve. At this time of day the common room was mostly empty, though there were a few people scattered throughout the common room listening to the minstrel playing.

Further on, the door to one of the private parlours had slammed, and Eluthril followed the sound, Oropher behind her.  
  
When they reached the door, Eluthril knocked firmly on it. "Tatharlas Oropherion, you come out of there right now."

Oropher paled, and Eluthril wrapped an arm around him to steady him. "Sorry, Ada, I should have said something as soon as we saw him," she apologised. "But I wasn't expecting to see him like that."

"I suppose he wasn't expecting to see us 'like that,' iel-nin," Oropher replied faintly.

Tatharlas exited the parlour, eyes downcast. A golden-haired elleth with the same green eyes was holding his arm, and gave Tatharlas a chiding look, though he wasn't looking at her.

Oropher looked at her, and knew. "Rivaleth," he whispered. 

She nodded, and Oropher tried to hug his eldest daughter and younger son both at once, something they made as easy for him as possible.

"Ada," Tatharlas gasped into Oropher's shoulder. "You're squishing me."

Oropher pulled back. "I am sorry, Tatharlas." He moved his gaze to his daughter. "Rivaleth, to you, too, I am sorry. For everything." A memory of a day when the most beautiful trees in Lindon had been blooming, seemingly for the sheer joy of it, returned full force and Rivaleth wrapped her arms about him again.

"Oh, Ada...shhh, I know, I know. You could not have known," she whispered. "You did not mean it. We are here."

"All of you?" Oropher asked.

Rivaleth nodded. "Galad, you can come out now," she called into the room through the ajar door, pitching her voice a little louder over the hum of the chatter from inside.

"Oh, for the love of the Belain," came an exasperated voice, as footsteps approached the door. "If you call me that one more..." His voice died away as he saw who was there. "Sir."

Oropher felt a pang of an emotion he could not quite name, as he looked at his first son, nearly a twin to himself in looks. The younger ellon stood straighter, giving him a warrior's salute, and Oropher ventured, "Galadhir? Hil-nin?"

"Yes sir...Adar," Galadhir responded. "I am glad you have come."

"I am glad to be here," Oropher replied.

"Not as glad as you would be to be with our brother, surely," Galadhir said quietly, and Oropher felt as though he had been struck a blow.

"Galadhir!" Rivaleth hissed. "Don't."

"I miss Thranduil very much," Oropher replied, "but that does not mean I cannot be glad to meet you, my children."

Galadhir bowed his head. "Forgive me, Adar, sir. I misspoke."

Oropher nodded. "So, when the Lady Nerdanel said someone was waiting for us here, she meant the three of you?" he inquired of his new-found children.

"Well...not just us, Adar," Tatharlas ventured. "We came with our daeredhryn, and, erm..." He blushed. "There's also Tathrenon."

Oropher raised an eyebrow. "Tathrenon?" he inquired.

"I promise he doesn't bite. Much," Tatharlas added.

Because that was comforting, Oropher thought. He entered the private parlour alone, and stood frozen in the doorway at the sight of Celepharn, who had his back to the door as he was looking out the window, and Neldiel, who was playing a clapping game with the giggling elfling seated on her lap. The elfling - Tathrenon, Oropher assumed - was almost the image of tiny Thranduil much to Oropher's shock. Tathrenon squealed as Neldiel finished the game by tickling him. Then they both looked up to see who had entered

Neldiel's breath caught. "Oropher."

Celepharn turned sharply, eyes widening when he saw his beloved son. He and Neldiel moved to greet him almost as one, Tathrenon scrambling and hopping behind Neldiel, clinging to her skirts.

Oropher accepted embraces and kisses from his parents, and when they let him go, he looked back at them, feeling as though he would never have enough. "Adar...Naneth..."

"What about me, Daerada?"

Oropher stirred, looking at the elfling. "Daerada?" he repeated.

"Mmm....think so." The elfling, who Oropher guessed was no older than twelve, wrinkled his brow. "Cause of you're Daerada Celepharn and Daernana's elfling. Aren't you?"

"Yes," Oropher said slowly. "I am their firstborn son."

Tathrenon nodded. "And I'm your elfling's elfling."

"Are you?" Oropher asked, frowning slightly.

"Uh huh. I'm Tathrenon," he said with a cheerful smile.

"And which elfling's elfling would you be, then?" Oropher inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Um." Tathrenon hopped from one foot to the other. "My nana is a princess of Aman."

"Is she," Oropher inquired, and Tathrenon nodded firmly.

"Uh huh. And she's also a warrior." 

"I see," Oropher said. "Suppose you tell me about your adar, then."

"Oh, he's a prince. And a warrior too," Tathrenon explained. "And he's the most best looking ellon in all of Tavrobel, because all the ellith say so, and they want to dance with him at parties even though he's married to Nana."

"Do they," Oropher was getting more confounded by the moment. "What does your nana say to that?"

"Oh, she doesn't mind. As long as they give Ada back after," Tathrenon explained. "But they're wrong anyways. Daerada Celepharn is the most best looking ellon, because Daernana said and she's always right."

Oropher snorted softly. "Did she." He looked at Neldiel.

"To be fair, ion nin, you weren't here yet," Neldiel said equably. Oropher rolled his eyes.

"Hmmm." Oropher studied the elfling. "I think, perhaps, your adar is Tatharlas."

Tathrenon brightened and nodded. "You guess really good, Daerada," he praised Oropher. "How'd you know?"

"Well. You said your nana was a princess 'of Aman', not 'of the Sindar' or 'of the Noldor', or any such designation. It sounds to me as though she is a Vanyarin princess, a descendant of the High King. Besides, you have the golden hair of the Vanyar, though you could have inherited it from your daernana's side of the family as well," Oropher allowed.

"Uh huh," Tathrenon nodded. "She's the High King's great-granddaughter. Or something, I forget how many greats," he admitted. 

Oropher nodded. "We shall work on that," he promised. "And you say both your parents are warriors, which suggests to me you have grown up on Tol Eressëa, since Aman proper has little need for warriors, save guardsmen." 

Tathrenon nodded again. He looked at Celepharn. "Daerada Cel, why didn't you say Daerada was really good at guessing games?"

Celepharn chuckled. "Hmm, I must have forgotten. But carry on, hil-nin," he encouraged Oropher. "What else did you think of?"

"Well, it occurred to me that if Tathrenon's adar was the best looking ellon in all of Tavrobel, it was likely he dwelt here. Surely Galadhir would not - that is, I could never see you or Naneth settled here, and I feel he would be likelier to settle by you than elsewhere," Oropher offered with a shrug. "Tavrobel is a nice place to visit, but it does not feel like home to us."

"And yet it does to Tatharlas," Celepharn agreed. "We prefer Doriath 'Wain, further inland, or else Eldamas, near Valmar, where Rivaleth prefers to dwell. Tatharlas and Eluthril do not mind the Sea or her shifting moods."

"Speaking of which," Neldiel began, having taken Celepharn's place at the window. She sighed as the sky opened above them, rain hammering down on the panes. 

"Can we play racing raindrops?" Tathrenon asked Oropher delightedly.

Oropher rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. "You sound like your Uncle Thranduil," he told the elfling, accepting a hug from the little boy. "Yes, all right, we can try, if the rain is not too heavy for that."

"Can you tell me about my Uncle Thranduil?" Tathrenon asked as he settled on the bench by the window with Oropher. "If it won't make you sad."

Oropher nodded. "I shall do my best." He curled an arm around the elfling, and as Celepharn and Neldiel came to sit on each side of them, he began,

"Your uncle's story really begins on such a stormy day as this, when your Daernana Felith and I were caught in a barn with nowhere else to go. We huddled together for warmth, and..."

"You gave her the special cuddles that Eru makes into an elfling?" Tathrenon asked.

Oropher paused, giving the little boy a long look. "Did your ada tell you that?"

"Daernana," Tathrenon said calmly. "I asked where do elflings come from and she said that when a grown up ellon and elleth are married and love each other very much, their special cuddles tell Eru that He should put the magic dust in the elleth that makes an elfling."

Celepharn gave Neldiel a long look behind Tathrenon's back that said _this is not finished, minx_ and Neldiel's cheeks coloured slightly.

"Well...that will serve as an explanation for now. Regardless, when Thranduil was born only two weeks before Yule, we were glad. Thranduil had survived, and he was a happy, usually healthy little boy," Oropher explained. "Though he got into his fair share of elfling mischief. I would rather not be giving you any ideas, though."

"I'm a good elfling," Tathrenon said, sounding hurt at the suggestion.

"You are a very good elfling."

Tatharlas. Oropher looked at his son gratefully, as Tatharlas gathered up his elfling and carried him back outside, leaving Oropher alone with Celepharn and Neldiel.

The next moment, Oropher was wrapped in his parents' embrace, and he clung to them, trying to remember to breathe. Celepharn rubbed Oropher's back gently.

"Peace, hil-nin, we are here, we have you," he murmured, and Oropher sobbed softly.

At last, Neldiel began humming an old lullaby, and Oropher focused on that, the lilting sound of his naneth's voice as she put words to music. The three of them snuggled together on the bench, and Oropher, exhausted and emotionally overwrought, found himself drifting off.

Neldiel continued soothing Oropher, stroking his hair as she sang, and when Oropher was asleep they settled him on the cushioned bench, tugging a blanket over him.

"Sleep, hil-nin. Sleep and be refreshed," Celepharn murmured. Neldiel smiled, and they remained with their exhausted son. 

Outside, the rainstorm still raged.


	10. Chapter 10

When the storm had at last died down, Celepharn and Neldiel invited Oropher to join them on their homeward journey. "For," Celepharn pointed out gently, "you are our son, and we would fain not part with you in such a short time."

"I will fetch your things from the ship, Ada," Eluthril promised. "Doriath 'Wain is not far."

"Please, Daerada, please!" Tathrenon begged, bright blue eyes wide. "Let's go."

How could Oropher say no to that?

In the end, he found himself in company with Celepharn, Neldiel, Falmaron, and all four of his Mandos-born children, with Tathrenon sitting before him on his horse. 

As they travelled the road to Kortirion, Oropher looked about him. The terrain was mountainous and rugged, sheltering the inland areas from the wildness of the Sea no doubt, yet the road was well kept and not unpleasant to ride upon. It was clear their horses knew the way well.

Eventually the mountains gave way to flatter land, and Oropher saw gleaming towers and spires off in the distance. "Kortirion," Eluthril told him in a low voice, "but that is not our destination." 

They turned off the main road to one leading further inland, wending mostly through farmland. A stand of elms greeted them in the midst of the fields on the outskirts of Kortirion, and in the centre of the ring stood a house, surrounded by a low fence with an open gate.

The house was not large, but built of white marble with a red tiled roof. It had four wings with a gate leading to an inner courtyard, and running from that inner gate to the main gate came an elleth. Her light brown hair with reddish and gold highlights bespoke of mingled Noldorin and Vanyarin heritage, and her grey eyes, unlike Nerdanel's, were warm as she beheld them. They were bright with the Light of the Two Trees. She was tall - as tall as, perhaps, Galadriel, Oropher thought. Despite an air of command and a thin circlet betokening her the lady of the estate, she wore a simple day dress of plain blue muslin and overall a leather smock which showed she had been tending her garden, as did the smudge of earth on her brow.

"Hara máriessë mi Cormë Alalvëa, heruvi ar herinyar," she bespoke them. "I am Lady Meril."

"We know," Neldiel laughed as she dismounted, kissing Meril's cheek in greeting. Meril returned the gesture, smiling.

"Ah, but your son does not. Oh, I would know him for your son, Neldiel. Do not think me so unobservant as all of that."

"He's my anatto, Auntie Meril!" crowed Tathrenon, and Meril laughed.

"He is indeed, child, he is indeed." She gave Oropher a curtsey. "Be welcome to my home, the Garth of Elms," she repeated in flawless Doriathrin Sindarin. "I am Lady Meril, wife of Gildor, my lord. You might remember me?"

Oropher's eyes brightened. "I do. You served my kinswoman Galadriel in her retinue in Doriath, as your husband served Finrod."

"Indeed, lord," Meril agreed. "I do hope she is well. I would not have left her side if she had not commanded it, but..."

"But she commanded it," Oropher agreed. "I hope you are happy here, Lady Meril."

"I am. Beyond my garth," Meril added, gesturing in the direction she meant, "lies Doriath 'Wain, and of course that way lies Kortirion. But I am sure I know where you travel."

"To Doriath 'Wain," Oropher nodded. "Tell me, Lady...is our king..."

"Yes," Meril said softly. "Go to him, my lord. I will still be here, when next you pass this way."

Oropher took a shuddering breath.

"Thank you, Lady Meril."

"Just Meril," she added, and Oropher nodded.

"Meril."

He exchanged a kiss of friendship with Meril, and when the others had briefly said their farewells, they rode on.

Doriath 'Wain was waiting.


End file.
